


And You'll Blow Us All Away

by PropertyOfLoki



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Avengers Family, F/M, M/M, Not Captain America: Civil War (Movie) Compliant, Protective Peter Parker, Protective Tony Stark
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-02-24
Updated: 2019-02-24
Packaged: 2019-11-04 22:34:12
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,807
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17906930
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PropertyOfLoki/pseuds/PropertyOfLoki
Summary: Grace Evans' life has never been simple or straightforward - becoming Tony Stark's personal intern only makes matters more complicated. This is all Peter's fault."I may or may not have hacked into the mainframe of Tony's artificial intelligence in order to change some of your personal information," Peter says quickly. Grace sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Of course he did."Who helped you?" she asks."Why do you automatically assume that I needed any help?" he asks defensively and Grace rolls her eyes at his offended expression."Peter, you can't hack," she reminds him flatly."That's..." Peter begins to object, only to realize that Grace is, in fact, correct, "that's... a very good point," he finishes lamely.





	And You'll Blow Us All Away

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: I have also posted this story on Wattpad and FanFiction.Net under the same title (And You'll Blow Us All Away) and username (PropertyOfLoki), please let me know if anyone else posts it without my permission.

Tony Stark published the announcement on the home page of the official website for Stark Industries. In the announcement he explained that he was searching for potential candidates for the position as his personal intern. Anyone between the ages of 15 and 30 living in New York City were welcome to apply.

Each year ten hand-picked individuals were offered a position in the Stark Industries six-month internship program. Getting an internship at Stark Industries was something everyone desired but very few received, only highly intelligent individuals displaying great potential and ambition were chosen as candidates.

Tony Stark, however, had never before taken on a personal intern.

In total, over 60 000 000 applications were submitted. In order to find a suitable match the number of applications needed to be significantly reduced. Therefore, all applications were run through a computer program, designed by Tony Stark himself, that instantly eliminated all irrelevant applications.

After eliminating all applications submitted by people living outside of New York City, around 7 000 000 remained. After eliminating all applications submitted by people younger than 15 or older than 30, around 4 000 000 remained. After eliminating all applications submitted by people with a criminal record, around 400 000 remained.

After eliminating all applications submitted by people who had average or below average grades in school, the 400 000 applications dropped to 7 000. After eliminating all applications submitted by the same person more than once, 7 000 dropped to 3 000. After eliminating all applications submitted by people with a history of excessive drinking or drug use, 3 000 dropped to 900.

After eliminating all applications submitted by people who had been reasonably suspended or fired because of continued disobedience or violence, 900 dropped to 200.

Having narrowed the number of applications down from an unfathomable 60 000 000 to a much more manageable 200, a more in-depth investigation into the remaining applicants could begin. The 200 applications were evenly distributed between the 40 employees working in the HR department of Stark Industries who managed to reduce the 200 applicants to a final 3.

The final 3 applicants included the following: Emily Jensen, a 24 year old university student studying computer engineering at Stevens Institute of Technology; Thomas Wilkins, a 29 year old mechanical engineer working for NASA; and Grace Evans, a highly intelligent 15 year old high school student.

3 letters were sent out, inviting each of them to an individual interview with Tony Stark.

o.0.o

"But... I didn't send in an application..." Grace mumbles, trailing off in confusion as she rereads the letter, unable to believe her eyes.

"I know you didn't," Peter says, "I did," Grace's eyes immediately leave the letter in order to stare at Peter in shock.

"You... you did  _what_?" she exclaims in disbelief, "but I... I  _told_  you that I wasn't going to apply!" Peter sighs in response.

"I know you said that," he says, "which is exactly why I did it," Grace bites her lip, torn, unsure whether she should be angry or thankful. "If anyone deserves that internship, it's you," the corner of Peter's lip quirks up in a sad smile, "you've been through so much heartache..." he says.

_"Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop, make it stop..." Grace chants, squeezing her eyes shut, desperately trying to block out the screams echoing hauntingly through the empty warehouse._

_"Tell me what you know!" the growl isn't directed at Grace but it still makes her flinch._

_"N-Nothing, I s-swear, p-please, a-at least l-leave my f-family out o-of it, p-please..." the voice is broken, defeated. It sounds nothing like the man who compliments her drawings from school, nothing like the man who laughs at her jokes, nothing like the man who helps her with her maths homework. It sounds nothing like her dad._

_"Adam... A-Adam..." the second voice is just as broken, scared and filled with pain. It sounds nothing like her mom._

_There is an irritated huff, and then the screaming begins anew and Grace begins to hyperventilate, wishing for it to just stop._

_After a while, it does. There are two deafening gunshots, and then silence. The silence is so much worse._

_The sound that makes its way out of Grace's throat is inhuman, it's filled with endless anguish and grief, almost like the sound a dog makes when wounded. She can hear heavy footsteps quickly approaching the corner she is curled up in but is unable to bring herself to care._

_As the man is about to pull the trigger of his gun to finish the job, there is a loud explosion as Iron Man blasts through the ceiling._

That had happened when she was just ten years old.

"So much suffering..." Peter continues sorrowfully.

_"Leave him alone!" Grace shouts angrily, forcefully pushing the man out of the way and urging the younger boy to run away and hide. He does so, shaking in fear as he scrambles for cover._

_The man quickly recovers, eyes burning with anger._

_"You'll regret that!" he growls, forcefully grabbing her by the hair and backhanding her across the face. The force of the blow splits her lip and sends her sprawling onto the floor._

_"Either you'll start obeying me or you will continue to face the consequences," he snarls, eyes cold and ruthless as he unsympathetically watches Grace and her struggle to stand up again._

_Once she's managed to regain her footing, using the wall for support, he delivers another hard blow to her stomach, causing her to double over in pain, her eyes watering._

_As she's busy gasping for air, he grabs her tightly around her upper arm, forcibly throwing her against the wall._

_Fifteen minutes later, the pain becomes too much and she pass out. The darkness is a blessing._

Grace had been stuck in the system for three long, dark years filled with nothing but pain and misery. She had managed to escape when she was thirteen years old, jumping out of a broken window and running without looking back.

"So much hardship..." Peter mumbles.

_Her entire body is shaking and her teeth are clattering, the threadbare blanket offers little protection from the cold temperatures of the night._

_She's been living in the abandoned apartment building for almost a year now, it provides a roof over her head but little more than that. Since no one is supposed to be living there, none of the apartments in the building has electricity or running water._

_Summer break has been rough on her. Despite working three different jobs at the same time she has only managed to save just enough money to survive. Her body is thin and fragile, her stomach is aching so badly she feels dizzy from the pain. She's exhausted and tired but the hunger keeps the sleep away._

_School starts again in a week. She can survive for another seven days._

That had been her situation a little over a year ago. Back then, things had looked pretty bleak for her. A few weeks later she'd met Peter for the first time. And with Peter came Ned and MJ. It's like having three incredibly overprotective older siblings constantly fussing over her.

Most afternoons and some nights a week are spent at either Peter, MJ or Ned's place, they take turns having her over to avoid raising any suspicion in their families. When she's over, they always make sure that she showers and does her laundry. The majority of her wardrobe consists of Peter and MJ's old clothes, clothes that they've long since outgrown.

A lot of her time is spent at their places but there are still nights, too many, according to her friends, when none of them can have her over. She has to spend those nights alone in the abandoned apartment building that had been her full-time home only a year ago.

Her living conditions are still far from ideal, but now she's not alone anymore, she has friends who care for her and who help her out. Thanks to them, she will never have to worry about starving to death anymore.

"Please, Grace, just go to the interview," Peter begs, "that's all I'm asking of you. You owe it to yourself to try, and if you don't end up getting the internship, at least you allowed yourself the chance. If not for the money, then do it for the opportunity to use your full potential," Peter says. 

"Oh, Peter..." she mumbles affectionately, pulling him into a tight embrace, "I'll do it," she says, "of course I'll do it." Peter smiles broadly and eagerly returns the hug, happy and relieved.

"Hold on..." when Grace pulls away, she's frowning. "Stark Industries must have run an extremely thorough background check on me if they're seriously considering me for the position as Tony Stark's personal..." at Peter's guilty look, she trails off. She narrows her eyes in suspicion, "what did you do?" she demands.

Peter chuckles weakly and diverts his eyes, nervously running a hand through his hair.

"What do you mean? I haven't..." Grace's glare intensifies and Peter cowers, hurriedly backtracking, "okay, so I might have done  _something_ ," he admits reluctantly, wincing slightly when Grace crosses her arms across her chest.

"Go on," she encourages.

"I may or may not have hacked into the mainframe of Tony's artificial intelligence in order to change some of your personal information," Peter says quickly. Grace sighs, pinching the bridge of her nose. Of course he did.

"Who helped you?" she asks.

"Why do you automatically assume that I needed any help?" he asks defensively and Grace rolls her eyes at his offended expression.

"Peter, you can't hack," she reminds him flatly.

"That's..." Peter begins to object, only to realize that Grace is, in fact, correct, "that's... a very good point," he finishes lamely.

"Who helped you?" Grace repeats slowly.

"Ned and MJ," Peter says, confirming Grace's suspicions. "I did, however, provide them with the puzzle piece that made it all possible: a small sample of the original source code that Tony programmed into F.R.I.D.A.Y.," Peter says, sounding smug.

"So, in other words, you went behind Tony Stark's back, stole from him, had your friends hack into his artificial intelligence - and you're proud of it? Should I be worried?" Grace asks, raising an eyebrow. Peter shrugs, looking alarmingly unconcerned.

"It's not like I did it in order to hurt anyone," he replies, "I'm Spider-Man - I'm a hero, not a villain," Grace sighs in defeat, of course he would pull the hero card.

"What 'personal information' did you change, then?" she asks, "did you manipulate the outcome?" Peter looks horrified.

"Of course not!" he exclaims, "I would never do anything like that! I had nothing to do with the outcome, I only modified some of your documents," he says.

"Which means..." Grace inquires, raising a questioning eyebrow.

"I basically wiped all documents concerning your past from F.R.I.D.A.Y.'s mainframe and wrote you a new story," he explains. "F.R.I.D.A.Y. is one of Tony's proudest creations, he may have liked J.A.R.V.I.S. more because of personal reasons, but he trusts F.R.I.D.A.Y. just as much as he trusted J.A.R.V.I.S.," he says. "Because of this, he's connected F.R.I.D.A.Y. to the entire Avengers Tower.

"All information used within the walls of the Avengers Tower has been provided and checked by F.R.I.D.A.Y., the HR department of Stark Industries is located in the company's section of the Tower, meaning that F.R.I.D.A.Y. controls all the information going in and out of there.

"Now, according to F.R.I.D.A.Y., you live in a relatively large apartment in Queens together with your parents and older brother," Peter says, sounding very pleased with himself, "you've had a very happy, normal childhood that won't raise any red flags that could lead to questions that could potentially complicate things for you." Grace looks at him, amazed.

"Thank you, Peter," she says sincerely, once again wrapping her arms around him, "I really appreciate it." Peter smiles.

"So you'll give it a shot?" he checks.

"Yeah, I'll give it a shot," she confirms.

o.0.o

"This was a stupid idea," Grace mumbles regretfully, staring at her business-like reflection in the mirror as Peter carefully brushes her hair from behind. The entire outfit is completely new, courtesy of Peter who had, despite Grace's protests, bought it using his own pocket money.

She is wearing a simple dark grey pencil dress, a thin black belt wrapped around her waist. On her feet are black stiletto heels.

She is, for the first time in her life, wearing makeup. It's a very natural look, nothing heavy, just a slight touch-up. Peter had used his aunt's makeup, assuring her that May wouldn't mind, applying it with practiced ease gained from the countless times he'd assisted his aunt with the same task before.

"And... all done," Peter declares, throwing the hairbrush onto his bed before taking a step backwards to get an overview, the results are obviously to his satisfaction because he smiles proudly. "You look amazing," he says, and Grace finds herself smiling involuntarily despite her nervousness.

"Thanks," she replies, glancing at the digital clock standing on Peter's bedside table and taking note of the time, "we should probably go," she adds, "I know there's still a while left until the interview begins but I'd rather be there too early than too late," Peter nods in agreement.

"Yeah, I agree, better safe than sorry - the New York traffic can be unpredictable, especially in the vicinity of the Tower," Peter says, grabbing the car keys from his desk. "Let's go."

Grace presses the elevator button while Peter locks the apartment door.

"I'll take the stairs," Peter announces once he's finished, already halfway down the first flight of them. Grace chuckles in amusement as Peter backflips down the second half, sticking a perfect landing and disappearing down the next flight of stairs, joyful laughter echoing in his wake.

When the elevator doors slide open and Grace steps out on the ground floor Peter is, to the surprise of neither of them, already outside and waiting for her. He grins playfully at her.

"That was slow," he comments teasingly, earning a light smack on the back of his head.

"Well, that wouldn't have happened if  _someone_  hadn't insisted I wear high heels," she retorts smartly, rolling her eyes. She walks over to the relatively small grey car parked a bit down the street, opening the passenger door and ducking into it. As she's fastening her seatbelt, Peter slides into the driver's seat next to her.

Most of the ride is spent in silence, Peter is busy trying to avoid crashing his new car and losing his newly acquired driver's license and Grace is busy trying to push down the steadily building nervousness and panic rising within her.

"Do you think you can walk from here?" Peter asks once there's only a couple of buildings left between them and the Tower. They had both agreed from the very beginning that keeping their connection a secret would be for the best.

As far as Tony Stark is aware, Peter is only really close with two people: Ned and MJ. Revealing that he actually has a third really close friend that he, for some reason, has never told Tony about before will no doubt result in questions being asked.

"Yeah, you can drop me off over there," Grace replies, pointing towards a relatively empty parking lot ahead of them, Peter doing as requested. Once the car is parked Grace begins to reach for the car handle only to pull her hand back again, hesitating.

Peter tracks the action with a soft, affectionate smile.

"You nervous?" he asks, receiving a small nod in reply, "don't worry about it, this is Tony we're talking about," he says, "the same guy who got an entire package of flour dumped on his head last week by Captain America because he kept trying to sneak food from the frying pan while the Winter Soldier was making dinner. He might seem intimidating at first, but he's really not," Peter reassures, drawing a small giggle from Grace.

"That must have been a sight to behold," she says.

"I have pictures," Peter replies smugly.

"I never expected anything less of you," Grace says, her voice laced with amusement, "I better go, but thanks for helping me calm down," she says, opening the car door.

"Always," Peter replies, "good luck," he calls after her as she shuts the door behind her.

As she approaches the entrance of the Tower she can't help but marvel at the sheer size of the structure, it's almost ridiculous how big it is and standing right next to it she feels incredibly small and insignificant. She can't see the top of the Tower from her close proximity but the height of it leaves her head spinning.

She swallows nervously and takes a deep breath before stepping through the automatic doors leading to the lobby of the Tower. The interior is, unsurprisingly, huge. It has white marble flooring and grey stone walls, it's decorated sparsely but tastefully with just enough decorative elements to make up for the huge amount of space and high ceiling.

There is a long, grey lobby desk to her right, it has the Avengers symbol in the middle of it and the most recent version of the Stark Industries logo engraved underneath. There are currently five receptionists standing behind it.

It isn't crowded in there, but it isn't empty either. She hesitantly approaches one of the receptionists, a young man in his mid-twenties, and he looks up at her with a warm, welcoming smile. According to the metallic name tag attached to his black vest his name is Sebastian.

"Hello, welcome to the Avengers Tower," he greets her, "how can I be of assistance?"

"Um, hello, my name is Grace Evans and I have an interview with Tony Stark at six o'clock," she says. The man, Sebastian, takes a moment to check his computer before nodding.

"In order to confirm your identity, please state your full name, address, date of birth and the last four digits of your social security number," Sebastian instructs her. Grace complies, easily citing the requested information. "Perfect," Sebastian smiles, "just wait here for a moment, I will send for someone from security to collect you and let Mr Stark know that you're here," he says.

It turns out Grace doesn't have to wait long, the moment Sebastian ends the call a man wearing a black security uniform and dark sunglasses arrives at the lobby desk, giving the receptionist a brief nod of acknowledgement.

"Please follow me, Miss Evans," the guard says, his voice is quiet and scratchy but not unkind. They pause momentarily when they arrive at four sets of see-through gates that could easily be mistaken for glass or plastic. Grace, however, has a strong suspicion that it's actually a transparent fusion between an amorphous metal and a reinforced glass-plastic combination. Which...  _awesome_.

There is a plastic card, most likely some sort of pass, hanging from a retractable key chain attached to the guard's belt. The card, like the lobby desk, displays the Avengers symbol in the center with the Stark Industries logo underneath. The background is a combination of several shades of light and dark blues, all swirling together.

The guard reaches for it and swipes it against one of the four available scanners.

"Security guard, blue pass, clearance level 10, cleared," a faintly robotic voice says, the voice is unmistakably female and it has a moderate Irish accent. Grace instantly identifies the disembodied voice as F.R.I.D.A.Y., Tony Stark's artificial intelligence. A lot of the stories that Peter tells her involves F.R.I.D.A.Y. and Grace feels both astonished, honored and thrilled to finally meet her.

One set of gates smoothly slide apart, allowing them passage through. They continue until they reach three sets of elevators, the guard leans forward and presses the elevator button displaying an arrow pointing up and the doors leading to the middle elevator immediately slide open.

They both step into the elevator and the doors automatically slide shut again behind them, the walls are completely smooth, there are no buttons to be pressed.

"Floor eighty-nine," the guard requests.

"Going up to floor eighty-nine," F.R.I.D.A.Y. replies and the elevator begins to ascend, the ride is spent in complete silence. Grace nearly has a heart attack when they arrive at the eighty-ninth floor and the elevator doors slide open to reveal Tony Stark  _standing right there_.

She quickly collects herself and tries to hide her surprise, judging by Tony's highly amused expression, though, she is largely unsuccessful. He is wearing an expensive-looking dark blue suit and a pair of polished, black dress shoes.

Underneath the suit jacket he is wearing a white t-shirt, the housing unit containing the nanoparticles that turns into his Iron Man armor is positioned over the center of his chest where the arc reactor used to be. It's emitting a soft, light blue glow.

"You must be the young Miss Evans, correct?" Tony addresses her, receiving a small nod in reply, "okay, come along, then," he says, making a small 'follow me' gesture with his arm. The security guard stays in the elevator and she can hear the elevator doors slide shut behind her as she quickly does as she's told.

The wooden double doors leading to his office simply have the words 'Tony Stark' written in bold red and gold letters across them. The view from the office is almost unreal in its striking beauty.

Tony leads her to a huge, black leather corner sofa, most likely custom designed, and motions for her to sit down.

"Shall we begin the interview?" he asks once they are both sitting down. Tony is comfortably seated with his right foot resting against his left thigh in an open and relaxed 4 figure sitting position. Grace, on the other hand, is nervous and tense, her legs are crossed and she's balancing on the edge of her seat.

"Yes," she replies, reminding herself to breathe properly.

"Okay, tell me a little bit about yourself," he says, studying her with a calculating expression. Grace takes a steadying breath and opens her mouth to reply - she has a whole monologue prepared but the word that tumbles out of her mouth is very different from the words she actually intended to say.

"Why?" the simple question catches them both off guard, Tony raises and eyebrow and Grace's eyes widen in shock.

"I'm afraid you've lost me, I don't follow you," Tony says sincerely, showing no indication of being angry or annoyed, merely curious.

"I-I mean," Grace stammers, her heart racing, "o-of course I can tell you about myself if you want me to, I just thought it m-might be kinda boring for you to listen to. I-I don't mean to be presumptuous or anything but, well - I'm here. The probability of you n-not knowing everything there is to know about me a-already is pretty low," she trails off, diverting her eyes and biting her lip.

"Interesting," Tony mumbles quietly, moving on to the next question, "why did you apply for this position?" Grace is not a very talented liar and Tony Stark is a very intelligent and very observant man so she and Peter had decided that she would stick as close to the truth as possible.

"I didn't," she replies truthfully, "it was my older brother, Peter, who applied for me." Initially, she had been extremely skeptical about Peter's decision of naming her 'older brother' after himself. She had warmed up to the idea once Peter had explained his reasoning behind it: firstly, if she accidentally slipped up and mentioned his name, which was very likely to happen at some point, especially if she actually got the position, she could easily rationalize it by saying that Peter was her older brother. Secondly, the name would be familiar enough that she wouldn't run the risk of forgetting it in a stressful situation - something she is now very grateful for. "I had absolutely no idea about it until your letter came," she says.

"Your brother applied for you? Why didn't you apply yourself? You clearly have the intellect," Grace shrugs tensely.

"I always knew that the odds were incredibly high and not in my favor, I guess I was afraid of being let down," she admits, "Peter loves me - he's always believed in me, even when I haven't. He means the world to me, and I wouldn't be here if it wasn't for him," she says, meaning every single word.

"Peter seems like a wonderful brother," Tony comments and Grace smiles affectionately.

"The very best," she confirms with a small nod, relaxing slightly.

"Next question: why do you want this position?" he continues.

"I want the challenge," she replies easily, "I never get challenged enough at school and I easily get bored, I want to test my limits, see how far I can go," Tony nods approvingly.

"Good answer," he says, then he cocks his head slightly, "I know how far ahead you are in school - have you ever considered skipping a grade or two?" he asks seeming genuinely curious. Truthfully: yes, she has. Many times. She can't risk drawing any attention to herself, though.

"No, I haven't," she says, averting her eyes. If Tony catches her lie, he doesn't mention it, moving on to the next question.

"What makes you special? Unique? What separates you from the rest of the candidates?" Grace frowns.

"I'm not special or unique," she replies, "and the only thing currently separating me from the other candidates is distance." Tony snorts in amusement, "I'm not under the illusion that I'm suddenly above everyone else - I have no doubt in my mind that there are people out there who deserve this position a lot more than I do, people with more experience," she says with a note of self-deprecation.

"Don't sell yourself short," Tony says sharply, "I'm not looking for someone with experience, I'm looking for someone with potential and personality - both of which you have in abundance."

"You sound just like Peter," she says dryly.

"I'll take that as a compliment," he replies cheekily, smirking, "moving on: why should I pick  _you_  for this position?" he asks. That's... a really good question - one Grace doesn't quite know how to answer. Peter would definitely know.

"Um..." she mumbles inarticulately, desperately searching for something to say, "I... um... I can swing by Starbucks and pick up a coffee for you on my way here?" she answers uncertainly, instantly regretting it. Tony barks out a startled laugh.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y., baby, please tell me you got that on tape?" he begs, still chuckling.

"Of course, Boss," F.R.I.D.A.Y. replies, "would you like me to archive it for you?" she asks innocently.

"You know it, Fri," Tony replies gleefully, showing no mercy. Grace moans quietly in despair, hiding her face in her hands.

"I did not sign up for this," she mumbles miserably, "this is all Peter's fault."

"Of course it is," Tony says teasingly before finally taking pity on her, "what are your salary requirements?" he continues.

"I don't have any, I'm not doing this for the money," she replies honestly, grateful for the change of subject. Peter, Ned and MJ had all argued against her decision to not set a salary requirement, all of them, including Grace, knew that she needed the money. She doesn't regret telling the truth, though - she really isn't doing this for the money. Tony hums noncommittally before moving on.

"I need you to think very carefully before you answer this next question, it is of utmost importance that you answer truthfully, do you understand?" Tony asks seriously, his expression grave and his eyes sharp.

"I understand," Grace replies solemnly, instantly alert.

"Do you want this position in order to get closer to any of the Avengers?" the simple and truthful answer to the question is 'no', but she doesn't reply immediately, choosing her words with careful deliberation.

"I would love to meet them, of course - they're the Avengers," she says slowly, "but I really don't want this position because of them. They could all pack their things, leave the Tower and collectively move to Asgard effective immediately and it wouldn't make much of a difference to me," she says sincerely.

"F.R.I.D.A.Y.?" Tony inquires.

"Miss Evans exhibits no signs of dishonesty, Boss," F.R.I.D.A.Y. reports smoothly and Tony nods, unsurprised.

"I strongly doubted that you were lying, but the Team is my number one priority and I will always put their safety first, I needed to be absolutely certain of your intentions towards them," he explains and Grace nods understandingly. "Great, that concludes our interview - do you have any questions?" Grace shakes her head.

"Not at the moment, no," she says. Tony nods and reaches into his suit pocket, retrieving a small, rectangular, somewhat see-through device. He hands it to Grace.

"That's a StarkPhone Generation Alpha." Grace's eyes widen in shock, the StarkPhone Generation Alpha hasn't been released on the market yet, it's part of Stark Industries' upcoming collection - Stark Industries Next Generation. "Keep it on your person at all times - I will return to you about the position in seven days."

o.0.o  
  
"How bad is it?" MJ demands brusquely, impatiently shoving her boyfriend aside and stepping through the doorway - her voice is harsh but her eyes are brimming with worry and concern. Ned quickly follows her inside, sending Peter an apologetic look. 

"We came as soon as we could," he says softly, "how is she holding up?" Peter sighs unhappily.

"Not good," he admits, "she's already suffered through three anxiety attacks, each one getting progressively worse," he says quietly. "Listen, I'm sorry but I... I can't do it, guys," Peter confesses, his voice breaking, "I'm calling Tony." 

Ned and MJ share an uncertain glance but neither tries to stop him as he retrieves his phone from his pocket, hand trembling. He has Tony on speed dial and is just about to press the call button when suddenly...

_Back in black, I hit the sack_

_I've been too long, I'm glad to be back_

_Yes, I'm let loose from the noose_

_That's kept me hanging about_

... for a moment, they just  _freeze_. Then there's a wild flurry of movement as they all simultaneously launch themselves in the direction of Peter's bedroom, unceremoniously stumbling through the doorway. 

Grace is sitting cross-legged on Peter's bed, an Avengers themed blanket draped securely across her shoulders. The StarkPhone is vibrating persistently on the bedside table, screen illuminated. Grace's face is ghostly pale and her eyes are unfocused - she looks totally lost and confused. MJ inhales sharply and Ned lets out a shaky breath. 

"Grace?" Peter prompts gently, immensely relieved when recognition and awareness instantly flood her eyes -  _not another anxiety attack_. MJ and Ned silently slip out of the room, giving them some privacy.

"Peter," she mumbles quietly, smiling weakly. Suddenly, the StarkPhone goes completely still and silent - but not for long. Mere seconds pass before it's at it again, drawing their attention. "I have to answer," she says softly, reluctantly reaching for it. The bed dips and creaks slightly as Peter sits down next to her, wrapping a supporting arm around her shoulders. 

Grace presses the answer button. 

" _Finally! I was beginning to wonder whether you would pick up or not,_ " Tony chimes, " _got a minute?_ " he asks.

"Yes, of course," Grace replies, nervous. Tony takes a deep breath. 

" _I'm afraid I have some bad news,_ " he says slowly, voice solemn. Grace closes her eyes, her stomach dropping - of course. The arm around her shoulders tightens almost painfully. The call isn't on speaker mode but that hardly matters with Peter's enhanced hearing. " _I am sincerely regretful to inform you that you will be stuck with me for the foreseeable future._ " 

Several long seconds pass before the statement finally registers. 

"I... I got the position?" she asks, dumbfounded. 

" _You got the position, kid_ ," Tony confirms bemusedly, " _there are still contracts to be signed, obviously,_ " he rambles," _but, after that, you'll officially be my personal intern._ " Peter almost collapses against her in relief, shaking. Grace feels... overwhelmed. Tony continues, " _we'll finalize everything on Friday, I'll have my driver, Happy, pick you up after school,_ " he pauses briefly, " _actually, if your parents don't mind, you should stay the night: I can give you a complete tour on Saturday. It'll take a few hours but it'll be worth it - as my personal intern you'll have to know your way around the Tower,_ " he points out. 

Grace nods mutely in agreement before she remembers that Tony can't actually see her over the phone. 

"I'm sure they won't mind," she replies quickly. 

" _Great, then I'll see you on Friday,_ " Tony says cheerfully. 

"See you on Friday," Grace echoes numbly and the call ends. Silence. Then: "did... did that really just happen?" Grace wonders aloud and Peter laughs breathlessly. 

"Yes. Yes it did." He replies, smiling broadly. Suddenly, his eyes widen, "we have to tell Ned and MJ!" he exclaims, shooting to his feet. 

"Peter, what in the world are you..." she trails off, eyes widening, "they're  _here_?" she asks incredulously, staring at him. 

"One moment," Peter excuses himself, promptly yanking the door open, "hey, guys, come here!" he yells. There are two sets of hurried footsteps racing down the hallway towards Peter's bedroom followed by Ned and MJ stumbling through the doorway. Ned relaxes as soon as he sees that Grace is okay but MJ is by her side in a flash, wrapping her arms around her and hugging her tightly to her chest.

"How are you feeling?" she asks softly.

"I'm okay," Grace reassures her, "actually, I'm better than 'okay' - I got the position," she reveals, smiling. MJ smirks proudly and Ned whoops loudly in the background. 

"Awesome!" he grins excitedly, bouncing on his feet. 

"Stark made a wise choice," MJ agrees, nodding, "I still don't like him, though."

"This is definitely cause for celebration," Peter announces, clapping his hands together, "let's have a movie night."

"We can't have a movie night," Grace says, frowning. 

"Why not?" Peter asks, confused.

"It's Sunday - we have school tomorrow," Grace points out. Peter raises an eyebrow at her. 

"I'm going to pretend you didn't say that," he says dryly. 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> A/N: Please feel free to leave a comment and tell me what you think about this chapter! Did you enjoy it? Hate it?
> 
> \- PropertyOfLoki


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